


Cherished

by Flutterpony



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cousin Incest, Extremely Underage, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Feelings, Forced Masturbation, Grooming, Molestation, Pedophilia, Polyamory Negotiations, Porn Watching, Porn with Feelings, Uncle/Niece Incest, Underage Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:55:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28340511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flutterpony/pseuds/Flutterpony
Summary: Accounts of an incestuous pedosexual and his ongoing adventures.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> New chapters are likely as inspiration strikes. Subscribing can notify if and when more come.

Four-year-old Claire struggled with her cousin’s borrowed tablet after Thanksgiving dinner, trying to administer virtual food, drink, candy, or medicine to the cartoon panda on screen. The inane children’s game and her lack of experience at dragging her fingertips across a touch screen led her to turn to her uncle for help with the clumsily hurried enunciation of a child still new to talking. “It’s not working!”

Her bare rough and tumble legs sported too many small bruises to bother counting, but her skin looked so soft. Her small knees marked an end to most of her post-toddler biffs. Her little thighs were less blemished, half-covered by her skort while she sat cuddled up to the father of her favorite cousin who eyed her fair skin adoringly.

A bit awkwardly, Uncle Steve took Claire’s small hand, making her extend her index finger so that he could use it to tap and drag the medicine to the panda. She didn’t manage to pick up the trick quite, and after additional attempts on her own, she finally asked to switch games before eventually moving on to her old familiar toys.

She liked it most when her uncle talked to her, especially while they played together with the new building blocks her cousin had opened when they exchanged late birthday gifts earlier. Her anticipation stretched out for months while their families had lacked any opportunity to meet together until the holiday, she’d been so excited to give the illustrated box of colored bricks and doodads to her slightly older family member and see it played with. Her love for attention stood out clearly as she opened herself eagerly to the father of the gift’s recipient. Not surprising to her indulgent uncle, considering his own son did almost anything he could to get the attention of others, like his mother had growing up. 

Claire was vocally independent, but sweet and well mannered if sometimes resistant to instruction. A hungry, opportunistic mind recognized that the girl offered nothing sexually in present circumstances, only bright eyed attention and a little physical closeness. Her watchful uncle accepted what he could of her and knew that he could wait, though he tried to distance himself from the urge, to seize her innocence or at least fondle it warmly at length. 

Even if Claire could have offered more-even if there were opportunity for more—her uncle had confided his secrets to his wife just across the room, sister to the girl’s mother, years ago, before they married. Knowing his proclivity, she in turn watched him if there seemed to be risk, though she never knew exactly how much risk there was. He couldn’t tell her himself for sure if he’d wanted to, his own limits unknown to him.

Despite the cumulative weight of each hypothetical that presented throughout the evening, however likely or unlikely, the balance of power between the man’s desire and the girl’s defenselessness remained in her favor. Better that he should suffer in want than she at his increasingly whetted sexual appetite, he accepted, though it all seemed thinly veiled cruelty to the part of him that burned for her.

* * *

Christmas Eve, Claire’s one-year-old baby sister, Michelle, sat calmly, leaned back against the same uncle on his lap, delivered to him for the fact that he had looked like a comfortable cradle, relaxed on the living room loveseat. The crook of his arm nested her. Always attentive, she seemed pleased or at least interested to simply watch the older children, venturing away from him only a few times briefly before coming back with a toy. 

Her big sister had crept close once, leaning in without regard for space while talking, her crotch close enough to contact Steve’s foot as his ankle rested casually on his knee. Grateful for any small opportunity, her uncle surreptitiously slid his large toe up sideways between her legs to feel her nook through her elastic cotton pants and couldn’t help but wiggle the digit conspicuously, surprising the little girl. 

“Stop that!” She’d said with so little understanding, no shock or fear, only objection at the surprise intrusion before continuing to play again as if nothing had happened but a surprise tickle. That was that as far as opportunity with the four-year-old was concerned. 

Later that night he reflected back and wondered what ratio of the girl’s reaction was a product of her unpreparedness only in that moment, a lack of skill with his large toe, and her lack of basic familiarity with stimulation between her legs. Each obstacle would be pleasant to overcome, he thought, given time and so much unlikely chance for privacy. He assessed that the night was an experiment gone well for the fact that his niece still hadn’t shied away afterward and nobody—particularly no other adult—had noticed, even if her private spot’s vulnerability was only exploited for a second and never saw further inquiry. There was satisfaction in knowing that moment of her vulnerability was eternally his now whenever he cared to reflect back on it.

While the girls’ parents left on an errand and he and his wife sat in their living room, the woman played with the older children or on her phone while the two romped together, and one-year-old Michelle rested still with him. On the screen of his own phone, he brought up what images he could quickly find of smiling little animated girls, easily hidden from all in the room with their backs to the walls, except he and the newly toddling girl. Zooming in and out repeatedly on what he wanted her to see, she finally noticed, pulling her attention away from the room at large for a moment here and there as he continued to hunt for illustrations that might leave an impression.

Her first glimpses of the uncle’s chosen artwork fell on a twin pair of pink haired girls, naked in each other’s embrace, resting on their side, smiling at Michelle with large blue eyes. Their top thighs crossed, embracing almost like their arms did giving the viewer an easy angle to admire their genitals with the blurred cock of a man between them. The extremely young spectator couldn’t have recognized the penis, even if it hadn’t been censored, but the hands of the man grasped both small girl’s buttocks, using his thumbs to spread their cheeks for a full view of their un-obscured anuses and the lines and dimples between each twin’s legs, especially their perineums, but also the cracks pointing to their rear doors and the partly hidden clefts of their vulvas hugging the erect blurry intruder. 

At this, the yearling on her uncle’s lap didn’t blink and quickly turned her attention away despite the colors and her Uncle’s silent prompting to look, and she continued to prefer to watch the other children and her aunt nearby for a couple minutes as he looked for other images.

On Michelle’s stuffed bear, a merry red nightcap sat. He pointed to it with his lit phone in the same hand, calling the accessory by name and fiddling the fluffy white ball at the top before showing her a cartoon girl on the screen with the same accessory. He zoomed in on it to compare side by side, then out again to show the character’s full, blushing, smiling form, her matching red outfit and eye catching horizontal striped panties. He dragged the image to the next frame for his little niece to see the same dark haired girl, nude but wrapped festively in long red ribbons with her legs wide as something the one-year-old couldn’t understand happened conspicuously at the division between her legs. 

Steve’s verbal explanation turned from Christmas clothing to a whisper in her tiny ear while no one watched, “… having sex.” She seemed to like very much his soft warm hiss, her attention spiked at the auditory stimulation. Her primary interest was in him for a bit, wide eyed and engaged at the fact that he cared to do more than just hold her and show her things, but actually speak to her in a whole brand new way. By extension, through his focus, her focus quickly turned to the little girl being vaginally penetrated, and she seemed to concentrate more than usual to try and understand it for a fraction of a minute.

Most of the images at his fingertips lacked simplicity for her level of understanding or failed to be adequately lurid to draw attention to much she wouldn’t have seen regularly on her older sister’s or mother’s bodies. He tried the images with her in moderately swift succession, keen to her level of attention. One of Code Lyoko, perfectly simple, drew the quiet child’s eyes and piqued her curiosity. If only his eyes could trace exactly what she looked at … but it seemed to him the most likely spots of interest were the girl character’s disproportionate head and eyes, as well as the bold simple strokes of her dynamically posed limbs and the point of focus at the foreground, her genitals, where the lines of her torso and cropped thighs effectively converged to point toward the blushing pink of her clitoris and naturally clefted line of her vulva. Perhaps the babe was only interested in the character’s tiny blushing nipples—the body part she knew her mother made use of to give her milk. Perhaps she wondered at the odd shapes of the character’s face, or maybe she stared, partly recognizing or completely ignorant, at the older girl’s smooth prominent pussy.

At times her uncle palmed her bottom through her diaper, wanting and squeezing her small area, but deriving little satisfaction through the padding. The sensation was nothing new to Michelle. Just earlier her mother and aunt had gone on about squeezing their bottoms. Her attention returned to the phone for a precious handful more of interested looks at the stylized bodies on the screen before the evening ended and she was brought to bed by her father while her mother and aunt continued visiting.

In her dreams, sugarplums danced, and the new things she’d been showed played brightly in her nimble young mind. Steve meanwhile pondered with both dread and longing on when their families would spend time together again.


	2. Chapter 2

The small child’s expression was warm and slightly distracted as her older cousin positioned her to straddle his knee. He sat comfortably on the family couch in their basement’s entertainment room with her like many times before. Many times before, he’d faced her away to avoid distracting her with eye contact. So many times she had wiggled free, impatient or bored with what seemed like casual bouncing, especially when there was no cartoon to watch.

His own satisfaction would come some time soon, but now he cherished her time. After dozens of gradually leading sessions and some success when she’d faced away, now he let her face him and watched her face, prompting her gently to lead for herself. Bouncing her little body as tradition went, and, in between while no one watched them, rocking her against his leg day after day, he worked to make her secretly aware of herself, to sense her own stimulation, and finally to prolong her willingness. This time, she knew enough about “sitting” on the youth’s “lap” to stay her 3-year-old lack of focus.

Annie felt her cousin’s hands rock her gently momentarily at her waist as they had before in similarly private moments, prompting her to start. She stared into space, her companion’s expression watchful but mostly unnoticed as she started to gyrate the sensitive flesh between her own legs through their clothing against the firmness of his limb. Steven attempted to move his leg subtly in sync with her, to encourage her stimulation without interrupting her control, enough to feel involved and make sure she knew he was present as he watched her soft young eyes glaze over, unashamed at the increasing warmth that spread throughout her body as the tingling between her legs grew and traveled up her back into her head.

After several past failed attempts in their current position, he hesitated to believe that what he was saw was real, not only hopeful imagination, but as minutes ticked past, he felt confident Annie was building. Acknowledging reality finally, he marveled as any adolescent might do—raised with traditional values and an opposite, insatiable drive to experience the forbidden—to see another person beside himself in real life, not in horribly exaggerated internet videos and pictures, become heated and begin to hunger for release.

The small girl did the part he’d silently taught her beautifully. Her breathing shallow, mouth open, and back tense, Annie humped Steven’s leg. He relished her small movements and vacant expression. Her quiet intensity validated his own in similar moments where moaning was unnecessary, a burden. He took the liberty of anticipating the use of her panties, enjoying her secondhand scent, moisture, and taste, and feeling the cotton texture around his youthful manhood as he released into the most intimate item the little girl could be said to own.

Refocusing on Annie’s small face amid his own physical distraction, Steven wished she’d show any hint of orgasm as the minutes passed. He scrutinized the most private thing about her meanwhile—an expression she didn’t know yet to hide, that nobody else would likely see. Her blissful distraction would change its appearance as she grew, and after she’d fully grown, it would change more still. The singularity of their moment together both elated him and left him wanting, sad to know that their time together would end far sooner than he wanted.

Though he wished otherwise, Steven doubted she’d reach her climax, and he wasn’t wrong as far as he knew, but for those precious minutes she and he bonded as secretly and innocently as he could imagine to plan, to avoid crossing the lines he couldn’t risk confessing to cross.

Their hormones stirred in the intimate moment, hers almost infantile and nebulous, his driven and focused but patiently yearning. Little Annie couldn’t be accountable for her circumstances. She couldn’t be guilty for what happened, but her older cousin’s influence over the span of that year might shape her desire and her chastity or lack thereof for many years after, he admitted, accountable to God and himself. Still, while he meant no cruelty, the intensity of his want wouldn’t wait, but compromised its way into their limited private time together.

It pained him to stop finally, after she’d satisfied her itch for long enough. She’d begun to take his continued prompts with ever shorter periods of self-directed stimulation, less and less patiently.

At least, this once, they hadn’t been interrupted by a sibling or parent’s sudden appearance and he’d gotten to see her face. There might be other times, and he’d long remember her innocent eager companionship after they’d grown apart. By maintaining some fraction of their purity, at least, he hoped to also preserve the familial closeness he treasured with her for their future.

If only that alone would satisfy them indefinitely.

Years later, he returned to their once shared home to find her grown large by comparison, more than half his adult height, though ever as innocent. Trained as she was, she unashamedly straddled his leg, but her parents forbade the action as soon as they recognized it. No doubt they suspected him as the cause of her behavior. She tried even just sitting normally on his lap at other times, but to no avail. With a hug, a smile, and an affectionate word, he at least offered her his friendship, but couldn’t any longer preserve the appearance of innocence while continuing to be her covert sexual companion.

Her adult years came, and their closeness remained. They looked forward every morning to him taking her to breakfast before her classes. His stability, the sense that she relied on him, was comforting to her and gratifying for him.

In another society, he’d marry her if she’d have him. Instead, they spent time together helping her relax or procrastinate her coursework, sharing her love for edgy anime in binges together, sharing his love for cute cartoons together at meet-ups, relishing in the childhood he felt perhaps they’d lost or the childhood she’d been forced to leave behind.

* * *

“I have a night off without the kiddo and lady. Are you doing anything?” Decades after he had watched her masturbate on his knee as a child, so much had changed. The question still felt natural, almost expected, even though it had been nearly a decade since they’d hung out just to watch a show together.

“Oh sure! You know, I’m not really doing anything.” Part of him worried she was only being polite owing to family obligation. Still, her care for him and the hope that they could reconnect was all that mattered at the moment. If there could be an open discourse between them, he wondered if she’d tell him that she’d been offended or hurt as a child by what happened and whether it still hurt her today.

She arrived at his home not much later. They greeted with a hug.

“I’ve _missed_ hanging out!” he enthused.

“So have I,” she responded warmly.

Chatting about her work and his, their family and friends, they caught up while he ordered their food before putting on her choice of anime.

After an episode, she looked comfortable, he considered. She hadn’t given him reason to believe she didn’t want to be there, and now might be as good a time as any, but he hesitated regardless before swallowing his apprehension. “Do you still remember when you were little and we lived with your family?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Annie answered matter-of-factly. Steven waited and watched from the corner of his eye. “Hanging out as one big family was pretty great and kinda crazy,” she commented.

“Do you remember when you were, like, really little, and used to sit on my lap, and I’d … bounce you?”

The woman reflected back. Her answer came hesitantly. “Did you bounce me? I mean, I kind of remember, yeah.”

“I remember,” Steven continued, “after I came home from abroad, you wanted to sit on my lap, and your parents told you not to any more because … well you were big, but I guess that wasn’t the real reason.” He paused tensely. “What did they tell you?”

Annie hesitated again. “I’m not …. What did you guess the real reason was?” Annie avoided both answering and eye contact.

“You’re special to me, and I’m sorry it ended that way …. I mean the time we spent together like that while you were on my knee or leg.” Steven’s heart raced at the admission. “I really loved it.”

“What about it? I mean, what did you … love about it?” she asked uncertainly, fearful at what he might be suggesting.

He felt his face warm. In spite of his fear that she’d hate him for bringing it up, he felt momentarily as though they were both children again, imagining her hesitation as if it were timidness. Perhaps it was, partly. For all he knew, she was still a virgin. “I’ve always loved you, and spending time with you,” he added, not meaning to sound as though he was in love, but also not sure that he didn’t want to be.

“Is it something we should really even be talking about?” she deflected. The acknowledgment in Annie’s tone affirmed she feared what his feelings implied.

“I guess if you feel like we shouldn’t, but I’m happy we’ve still gotten to spend time together over the years, and I hope we can keep hanging out, and … if you change your mind, well, it wasn’t so bad for me, even though I felt a bit guilty and scared way back then. Either way,” he added quickly, “I really hope it turned out ok for you, and I’d never take it lightly ever, and … I’m really happy to just hang out, like with pizza and whatever.”

Annie blushed, but her features twisted. “Steven,” Annie finally seemed upset, “what about Jessica and your kid, or the fact that we’re related?”

Steven’s breathing halted nervously until, after a moment’s silence, sighed. “I know. And I love them too. I mean, I love Jessica and want only the best for our son.”

“Well then, I guess that’s all that needs to be said.” Annie finalized.

He answered nodding, but couldn’t keep back so much he’d wanted to say, now that the topic was finally open. Decades before, when it had all started, she’d only barely been verbal. “I didn’t give you a choice back then, and I wanted to be close, because you were sweet and cute, and … you’re still those things now, but in a whole different, amazing way! Still, it wasn’t fair to you back then, and I feel terrible that you probably felt you were responsible, when it was always me leading you. I just … wouldn’t have had the nerve to try and be intimate with the others, and I’d never have the guts to talk about a relationship now with you if we didn’t have some history.”

“It’s barely a history, you know.” Annie’s tone was sour. “Not something you can just think is okay to get away with and hope that talking about it would lure me back. You’re talking like any little girl would have been your target and I could be anyone now, as long as you get thrills. Aren’t you happy with Jessie?” Annie vented, and some part of her yearned.

“We’re … just not very active together, but … I’m not saying I want to _replace_ Jessica. If the laws weren’t dumb, I’d … be asking you on a date instead. I’d court you, and we’d decide if we all want to be a family, I mean! Though I know it’s all far fetched, I’d want you to have your own homes and share them both with you.”

The extreme strangeness of what he said, almost out of nowhere, caused her to pause briefly before she pulled herself away from the mental images he’d given her. “Because I’m an easy opportunity,” she retorted, “and what? That’s your _thing_ , huh?!” Her disgust as she looked at him cut deep. “How many others were there? How many _are_ there, Steven?” She kicked herself almost immediately for raising her voice, but her anger didn’t seem to be heard through his delusion.

He froze, wanting to answer, but too afraid to be honest.

“Y-you’re not well Steven.” Annie stood sullenly and began to collect her things to leave, her eyes shimmering.

“Wait. I mean,” he struggled to get it out, “I haven’t—there are no others right now, and … I’ve never gone as far with any as …. You’re the only one I got so close to, but … yes there were others.” He paused to consider, his brow knitted under the weight of her judgement. “Two others that I’ll tell you anything about if you really want.”

She paused, tempted to respond, to ask more, but turned instead to show herself out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> New chapters are likely as inspiration strikes. Subscribing can notify if and when more come.


End file.
